


Lunch Hour Blues

by jewelianna88



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:42:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewelianna88/pseuds/jewelianna88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fifteen days after they got together there was suddenly an ex-girlfriend and a baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lunch Hour Blues

Lance stood in the waning sunlight picking little pieces of bread from the end of the loaf, dropping them into the water below. He smiled as the ducks quacked and spattered, rushing for the treat he gave them. Bit by bit, he threw them the stale bread, until there was no more and he couldn't do anything but watch as the ducks eventually gave up and moved on to more interesting places.

The deck light turned on, motion activated to warn that someone was coming. From behind, warm arms wrapped around Lance's shoulders and a body pressed against his back.

"You found a nice place for us," Joey said. Lance wanted to say that he hadn't found it, that it had been some low-paid intern who'd scoured the real estate pages looking for the rental house, but he didn't. He just nodded.

"We should go in," Joey continued. He nipped playfully at Lance's ear, tugging on the lobe with his teeth. Joey was so excited, so happy to finally be ready to shoot. "We have to be on-set at five tomorrow."

An early morning. Lance let Joey lead him into the house, up the stairs, through the motions of bedtime and under the covers. When the lights were out, he clung to Joey's side, counting his breaths until he got to sixty-six. Sixty-six nights left together, and he kissed Joey's shoulder before closing his own eyes.

**

When Lance and Joey first got together, it was two years ahead of Lance’s five-year plan to make Joey realize that he loved him. He’d developed the plan right about the time they got back from Europe, when Joey had casually said that maybe being with a guy wasn’t as gross as he had thought, and he might actually try it out some time, you know, if he was desperate or anything. Lance knew repressed same-sex preferences when he heard them. Hell, he’d had them for long enough himself. It had been the first sign of what Lance knew would eventually happen-- that he and Joey would end up madly in love with each other. Always the pragmatic one, Lance had come up with a five-year plan.

Two years ahead of schedule it began, and for fifteen days Lance thought that was a good thing, until the gods of timing began to smite him and there was suddenly a baby and an ex-girlfriend in the picture too.

Lance realized he probably should have stuck to the plan. Then maybe he would have had more than eight months with Joey before it all disappeared.

**

There were people everywhere, and Lance couldn't help but be just a little overwhelmed. OK, a lot overwhelmed. Between the cast, crew, and media that had been invited to the first day of shooting, there were hundreds of people milling around the old warehouse they'd converted to a studio on the outskirts of Toronto. It was so different from shooting a video; he wondered how he could have ever convinced himself that this would be easy.

Somewhere between wardrobe and makeup, Joey corned Lance and tugged him into his dressing room. It wasn't much more than a set of temporary walls with a door, but it gave them the privacy they needed.

A soft kiss with just a hint of tongue, and Lance was a lot more relaxed.

"You're gonna do fine," Joey said, straightening Lance's collar. "Trust me."

"I think I've forgotten every line," Lance admitted nervously. The words were all jumbled around up in his head, like white bits in a snow globe that someone had shaken into a furious blizzard. "I'm gonna screw it up, I'm sure of it."

"You're gonna do fine," Joey said again, kissing him gently. "Just be confident."

Joey had more faith in him than Lance had in himself. It had been Joey who had talked Lance into doing the move, telling him he'd only play Ron if Lance agreed to play Kevin the way everyone wanted. Joey was the one with confidence; Lance was just tagging along for the ride.

When positions were set and the all-quiet was announced, Lance looked around the table of the makeshift diner, at the girl across the table from him, and past her to where Joey was standing. His eyes were so bright and so eager, Lance couldn't help but smile. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was Kevin, waiting for his date to arrive.

By lunch break, they'd shot the scene from seventeen different angles and zoomed in for thirty six different close-ups before calling it a take and moving on to the afternoon scenes of other dates with other girls. Lance's throat was killing him from the dregs of laryngitis that he'd had a few days before, and nothing on the craft services table looked even remotely appealing.

"Hey, come on," Joey said, curling his arm to gesture Lance should follow. "Lonnie's got us a car and there's supposed to be this great little place around the corner." Joey had been in Toronto for his movie the year before, and knew his way around pretty well.

The place was called The Soup Kitchen, and despite its name, it really was a nice little cafe. The walls were lined with dark gray marble counters, thickly veined with swirls of white. The scents wafting from deep cauldrons of soup made Lance's mouth water.

"How did you find this place?” Lance asked. It was a far cry from the burgers and fries Joey usually favored, the kinds of places Lance had gotten used to eating in for the past few months, since he and Joey had started their thing together, their great tragic romance.

"The caretaker guy who gave us the keys to the house mentioned it when I said we were shooting in this part of town." Joey squinted up at the menu. He really needed to just get some glasses. "Read that for me, will you?"

Lance ran down the list of soups, salads, and sandwiches, his own stomach grumbling. The banana he'd grabbed for breakfast had worn off hours ago. Joey slipped his hand under the back of Lance's leather jacket as he read, warm and reassuring, and so bold in a public place. Lance didn't step away.

Everything was served in a bread bowl, and Lance's minestrone was the best thing he'd ever tasted. Joey dipped his spoon in his bowl of corn chowder and held it up so Lance could try. It tasted perfect.

As the hot broth soothed his throat, Lance watched Joey spooning up chowder, occasionally breaking off a piece of the bread to munch on. Joey had gained some weight over the past few months, but Lance only noticed it in pictures. When they were together like this, Lance couldn't get over the soft curves of Joey's cheeks, the sparkle that lit up his eyes when he was amused, or the bright flash of teeth when he smiled.

Joey looked up and caught him staring. "What? Did I drip?" He wiped at his chin, stared at his shirt.

"No, just daydreaming." Lance ate some more, eyes on his tray, sneaking glances from under lowered lashes.

"What time are you due back?” Joey asked, wiping his mouth with a white paper napkin.

Lance looked at his watch- Kevin's watch, he realized, not the platinum one he usually wore. "Three," he said, "you?"

Joey shrugged. "I'm not shooting today. Hey, you want some dessert? Those brownies look awesome."

Lance shook his head, his stomach churning at the thought of the dense chocolate treat. "No, wait, back up. Why'd you come all the way down here if you're not on today?"

"To see you. First day and all." Joey blushed a little bit behind his smile, before bolting up out of his chair. "I'm gonna get a brownie and you're gonna eat half of it so I don't feel like so much of a pig."

**

It would have been nice if they had the house to themselves, but Beth and Wendy were staying there too, so thing were a little cramped. There were very distinct male and female quarters, as if someone had drawn a line down the middle of the house and said boys on this side, girls on the other, but there were still things like lacy undergarments hanging in the laundry room that made Lance do a double take. He hadn't lived with girls since he was sixteen.

Joey was reading all of these how-to books about fatherhood, leaving them in little stacks around their room. He was so diligent about it, making little notes in the margins and highlighting things that looked important. For a guy who claimed to have hated school, he sure was an eager learner.

Lance loathed the books, and shoved them under the bed when Joey dropped them down beside the mattress at night. They were reminders that things were going to be changing. His mental calendar told him that there were only sixty-two days left until B-day, birth day, the day when Joey would wake up and realize that he had a family and didn't have room for a gay lover on the side. He'd never doubt that Joey loved him, but he also knew that Joey always did the right thing, especially when family was concerned. Sixty-two days, less if the baby was early as Joey seemed to think she would be, and it would all be over.

Denial was a beautiful thing, so Lance kept quieting the voice in his head and hiding the reminders Joey left around so he could pretend they would be together forever.

**

“This bed is really comfortable,” Joey commented, bouncing a bit as Lance pulled off his socks and dropped them into the hamper. Joey pulled his knees to his chest so he could wiggle his feet down under the tightly tucked blanket.

Lance crawled up beside him, slouching down against the headboard. It was a nice bed. Joey found little things to be happy about and Lance was happy too.

“Like, it’s soft, but it’s not saggy.” Joey bounced again, jostling Lance until he was laughing, too, and they settled down together, tangled in the middle of the bed.

“It’s more comfortable than that rock you sleep on,” Lance commented, poking Joey in the side.

“Hey! It’s good for your back,” Joey said in protest. Lance knew that he’d just bought it because the girl at the furniture store recommended it, and she’d had a nice rack. Joey couldn’t even pull off pretending he knew something about mattresses.

“And anyway,” Joey continued, “this is cool cause it’s, like, our bed. Not mine or yours. It’s both of ours.”

Lance liked that thought. Ours, he repeated in his mind as he turned out the light and rolled to find Joey’s warm mouth in the dark.

**

They went back to The Soup Kitchen every day during the first week of shooting. They'd been focusing on all of the date scenes with the different girls and different guys. Most of it would end up on the cutting room floor when the montage was put together, so it was frustrating to spend so much time on the different scenes. It also meant that the four guys were jumping back and forth at odd hours, in for a few and off for a few more.

Lance and Joey always sat at the same spot in the cafe, at the counter near the side window, facing the parking lot. Side-by-side, they would talk about the movie or the album or just be together. Lance would try some of Joey's soup or sandwich and offer up a mouthful of his own.

If it weren’t so temporary, it'd be a very comfortable routine.

"Are you excited about tomorrow?” Joey asked, taking a sip of iced tea between bites.

Lance tried to remember what was on the shooting schedule for tomorrow. "Why, what's going on?"

Joey rolled his eyes. "I thought you were the one with the scoop, Scoop. J and C are coming up to record stuff."

Nobody had called him that in years. And Lance had completely forgotten that they'd rented time in a tiny studio, a quarter of the size of the place they used in New York. Originally, the album was going to be recorded after shooting finished, but everything had been pushed up to make a summer tour possible and now Joey and Lance were pulling double duty, heading to the studio at ten each night for a few hours of recording before going home for a few hours and being back on set by seven the next morning.

Justin had suddenly turned into a super writer, banging out songs that made Lance's head spin. Lance noticed the sad little smile on JC's face when they were talking about album choices, but let didn't get a chance to talk to him about it. He hoped Chris would see it on the other end and intervene a bit. JC and Justin were here together to pick up Joey and Lance's vocals for Up Against The Wall, but JC was being unnaturally quiet.

"Lance, a little longer on the end of that phrase. Drag it out into the next bar." Justin's voice came through the speaker and Lance sighed, nodding. He was so tired.

Joey was there waiting when he came out of the booth, his eyes deep pools of caring. "Guys, give us a minute," he said without looking at them. JC and Justin left silently, without argument for once. Joey guided Lance down to the floor, where they sat leaning against the padded wall.

"You're exhausted," Joey said, tipping Lance's head to his shoulder, curling an arm around him protectively. Lance nodded miserably. "Do you want to call it quits for tonight?"

"No," Lance sighed, exasperated with the whole crazy schedule but not willing to let it beat him down. "I just need some water or something. I'm OK." Joey squeezed him one more time before they both climbed to their feet.

In the tiny bathroom, Lance splashed his face, trying to wake up. Joey was waiting for him outside of the door.

"Don't kill yourself," he said, soulful brown eyes staring down at Lance. "I mean it, we don't wanna do the hospital thing again, right?" He was worried. Lance could tell by the way he scratched at his temple. His fingernails were still painted black from the set. It was a little bit hot. Very hot. Lance felt a little better.

"I'm good," Lance said. "Let's get this done so we can go home."

**

Lance didn't get to have lunch with Joey the next day because he was running lines with Wendy. She was a huge help getting him into character. Lance had taken exactly one acting lesson, before he filmed for Seventh Heaven a few years earlier. The rest of this was coming straight from him. He didn't even have much of a drama background, just a non-speaking chorus role in Bye-Bye Birdie when he was a freshman in high school. He thought he was holding his own pretty well, considering.

They spent the afternoon blocking the beginning shots of the bar scenes. For the next few days, they would be shooting in the tiny corner of the warehouse that had been transformed into a bar. Lance liked these scenes because he could hide a page of his lines between his leg and the wall of the booth and sneak peaks between takes. He felt like a lot less of a dolt.

On their first day of actual shooting in the bar, they re-shot the scene with the sugar for almost the whole day. Joey was a sticky mess after about five minutes, and they just kept going and going. Everyone was laughing by the third take. By the ninth, they were having trouble keeping the set quiet while cameras were rolling. Joey was a good sport about it, really.

It was a long day, but a good one. When they got back to the house, Joey slumped against Lance in that bone-tired-but-oh-so-happy kind of way.

"Do you want dinner?" Lance asked, dropping his keys on the table. Joey shook his head.

"I want you."

Wordlessly, they climbed the stairs to their bedroom, hands clasped between them. Both were quiet as they removed their clothes, shedding layers until nothing blocked skin from skin. It reminded Lance of the first time, when Joey was so nervous about his being with another man that he hadn't uttered a word during the entire thing. Now, it wasn't nerves that kept them from speaking but a sense that each already knew what the other was thinking, and extra-sensor perception that had grown between them.

Joey's mouth was wet against Lance's collar bone, and Lance let his head roll back to give Joey free reign of his skin. Exposed, he offered himself as Joey tasted, mouth lingering in one spot by his shoulder, sweeping over the curve of his bicep, sucking gently on a nipple. Lance gasped helplessly as Joey worshiped his body with his mouth, his mind floating away to a state of bliss he'd never imagined possible.

"Come back," Joey whispered, bringing him to awareness as Joey linked their fingers, drawing both of Lance's hands up above his head. Lance opened his eyes to find Joey peering down at him, lust written all over his face.

Joey was always on top and Lance loved it that way, loved feeling Joey inside of him, filling up the spaces he'd never realized were so empty before Joey. When Joey entered him, Lance kept his eyes open, watching as Joey's face contorted from concentration to relaxation to desire as he sank in deep and began to move. Lance was so caught up in it all that the orgasm was almost an after-thought, sensor overload melting down when his body could handle no more. He shivered as he came, feeling Joey tense between his legs and coming too, moments later.

"Are you having fun?” Joey asked later, when they were cleaned up and wrapped together in the dark. It took Lance a moment to realize he was talking about the movie.

"Yeah, I am. It's cool, you know. Different but cool."

"You're not smiling as much as you used to," Joey said. He used his fingers to spread Lance's lips into a grin.

Lance licked at Joey's fingertips. "I'm tired. But I'll smile more tomorrow." Joey kissed his temple, and Lance smiled then. It didn't take much to make him happy, and it was all wrapped up here in his arms.

**

Beth and Wendy went with them to The Soup Kitchen the next day, after refusing to let them sneak off for "real food" for another day, leaving them alone with the floppy grilled cheese and questionable tuna salad. Lance made a mental note to look into hiring a different caterer, or at least have someone speak to the one they currently used.

Over lunch, Wendy was flipping through the revised script with one hand, a piece of cornbread in the other. "You and Emmanuelle are gonna have to get some rehearsal time in," she said when she got to the last page.

"Hmm?” Lance asked. "For what, we've got, like, three scenes together and they're not until Chicago."

"No, for the closing scene. The big kiss."

Joey laughed, the bastard. Lance elbowed him hard in the ribs.

"Ow!" He shoved Lance away from him. "That hurt, fucker."

"It's OK, Lance, everyone knows that women aren't exactly your strong point," Beth said diplomatically.

"Oh, come on. I mean, I kissed Beverly, right? She said it was good."

"She said you were sloppy and overeager. It cost you a wine basket to keep it out of Teen People."

Lance winced. "She said that?"

Beth nodded.

"What is a wine basket, anyway?” Joey asked. "I though people sent, like, fruit baskets."

"Sometimes, fruit just isn't enough." Wendy finished her bottle of juice and tossed it to the trashcan.

Lance glanced over at Joey, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Joey caught his eye and smiled. "I got no complaints," he said, and Lance grinned back. Why would anyone want to kiss a woman when they had Joey? Still, though. Sloppy?

"It really cost me a wine basket?" he asked.

"A large one," Beth said. Lance groaned and buried his face in his hands.

**

The last day shooting before Joey went back to Orlando was in the baseball field. They had the park rented for the whole day, but some of the crew convinced everyone to start shooting at dawn so that they could get in a softball game when filming was done. It had turned into a big party, and Lance wasn’t really complaining. He was glad everyone was having a good time on the movie. He just really wanted to get Joey home early and spend their last evening together. Alone.

“Hey, batter batter batter. Swing, batter batter batter.” JQ bounced up and down at shortstop, punching his glove repeatedly. Lance glanced over his shoulder to where Joey stood in the on-deck circle.

“I just want y’all to know that I really suck at this,” Lance said loudly.

“All the better for us then.” Mike, the boom mike guy, wound up and pitched, a high something that Lance rightfully judged as a ball.

“Good eye, Lance, good eye.” Emmanuelle was on first, ready to make the break for second. The pitcher eyed her carefully, keeping her lead short.

Lance tapped the bat on the plate and swung it a few times before resuming the position. This time, when the ball came, he swung hard. And whiffed.

“Strike one!” The ump cried, sending up cheers from the opposing team. Lance gritted his teeth.

“I told you I suck at this.”

“Hey, singer boy, hit a homer, man!” came a cry from his team’s bench. Lance sighed and took the position once more.

This time, when he swung, there was a satisfying crack as bat hit ball. He dropped the bat and took off running, satisfyingly stomping on the base bag only to be sent back to the plate. Foul ball.

“That’s so wrong,” he said grudgingly, picking up the bat once more. Two strikes on him, and he suddenly felt like it was seventh grade gym class all over again.

With the next pitch, though, Lance made satisfactory contact, sending the ball wobbling past the second baseman into center field. Emmanuelle had enough of a lead that she made it in safely, and Lance stood proud at first when the play was done.

Joey struck out, of course, ending the inning. But still. Lance had done OK for himself.

**

“I’m going to miss you,” Joey said when the lights were out and the house was quiet. Beth and Wendy had declared it girls’ night out, leaving Joey and Lance alone for their last night together.

“Me too.” Lance leaned into Joey a little more. They were spread across the couch, a fire roaring before them. The flickering lights made shadows dance around the room, and the glass of the sliding deck doors sparkled with the reflection. It was a nice house, Lance thought, but he didn’t like the idea of being there alone.

“I wish I could get out of this, and stay up here, but Kel said the class is really important, and JC wants to get my vocals done so that they can focus on you for the weekend.”

Lance knew all of this already. He nodded anyway. “It’s not that long,” he said, and then they’d all be together again for dance rehearsals and more recording.

“I’ll call everyday,” Joey promised, crossing his fingers over his heart, making Lance grin.

“It’s not that long,” he said again. “It’s no big deal.” If he was going to live the rest of his life without Joey, than surely he could get through a week now. It’d be a good trial, he figured, for after the baby was born and Joey would be back playing the straight guy.

“It’s a big deal to me,” Joey insisted. “But I have to go.”

Lance didn’t say any more about it. If he did, he might start thinking about Joey sitting beside Kelly in a birthing class, the perfect family picture, and that just ached a little too much. He hated himself for hating a baby so much, someone innocent not at all worthy of his jealously or loathing.

They made love fiercely that night, with an urgency that neither could explain, the kind that left the bed sheets all torn up when it was done with both men panting as if the wind had been knocked from them.

When morning dawned, Joey slapped the snooze alarm five times, silencing it as long as possible before it called him out of bed. He packed while Lance showered, shoving T-shirts into his bag haphazardly. As he dried off and dressed, Lance watched as Joey tied his sneakers.

“Call me when you land?” Lance asked, one hand holding onto Joey’s waist. He never wanted to let go.

“As soon as we touch down,” Joey promised. “But you’ll probably be on set all day.”

“I’ll keep me phone close.” He’d make Beth carry it around and she’d hate him for it.

Lance hadn’t told anyone about the countdown. He hadn’t wanted to explain to everyone what he knew was going to happen. He knew Joey better than anyone, and no one else would believe him when he said that Joey was going to break up with him, he realized that. He kept it all inside, knowing the end was coming and savoring the moments until then as much as he possibly could.

When Joey’s car drove away, Lance glanced at the calendar. Fifty-two days.

**

With Joey gone, Lance was left hanging out with Wendy and Beth, who were fine, but decidedly female. Wendy went to lunch with him most days, but she’d order a Chicken Caesar Salad, light dressing on the side, no croutons, then glared at Lance’s chicken noodle in a bread bowl disdainfully.

“I thought we were watching carbs.”

Lance ground his teeth and cursed Dr. Atkins and his new diet revolution. “I don’t eat the whole thing.”

Wendy tried to get him to run lines while they ate, and Lance tried not to hate her for being so overeager. She really was a big help to him, but he missed Joey. A lot, and he should have been focusing on getting used to this, but Wendy or Beth or anyone else just couldn’t fill the empty space beside him. No one was big enough. And he wasn’t talking just physical space.

He got home early that night, before dinner even. It was too cold to sit out on the porch, so Lance curled up in a chair by the window and called Joey.

He answered on the third ring, out of breath. “Hey!” Joey’s voice was happy and bubbling with excitement.

“Hey, what’s going on?” There was talking in the background, music and chirpy voices.

“I’m over at J’s and Wade’s here. They’re showing me some of the choreography we’re working on for the tour. It’s really wild.”

“Yeah?” One more thing Lance had to juggle- new choreography for the video and tour.

“Yeah. I’ll show you some of it when I get up there next time. J’s shitting himself down here this is so sweet.” Lance heard a muffled comment in the background and Joey laughed. Lance suddenly felt very far away.

“I should let you go,” he said. You sound like you’re having fun. I don’t wanna keep you.”

“You’re not,” Joey said. “You OK?” You sound kinda down.”

“I’m fine,” Lance lied. “I’m gonna go make dinner.

“Alright. Later gator. I’ll call you when we’re done here.”

He wouldn’t, but Lance let the promise slip by unchallenged. “Sure. Bye.”

“Lance?” Lance paused, the phone held away from his ear.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Lance’s eyes watered a bit. “I love you too.”

He hung up the phone. For a long time he just sat, one leg dangling over the arm of the chair, eyes damp with unshed tears. There was a weight in his chest, pressing heavy against his breastbone making it hard to swallow, hard to breathe. He fought it until the lights came on around the lake and the sky faded to black.

**

When Lance got depressed, he worked. He didn’t need to spend hours going over proof sheets from photo shoots or studying spreadsheets on budgets- there were people paid to do that who knew a lot more about it than he did. But the work made him forget about the other stuff, like Joey being in Orlando with his pregnant girlfriend, three thousand miles and an alternative lifestyle away.

On top of the behind the scenes stuff, he had the album and the filming. This week they were shooting office scenes. Lance was amazed at how the big empty studio had been converted into a real office, complete with cubicles and paperclips and copy machines.

Jerry Stiller was around to keep an eye on everything. He’d walk up to the cameramen and tell them to change angles for some shots, his brassy voice booming across the set. Some of the crew were annoyed- Eric loved it. Lance just stayed where he was supposed to. He picked at a loose string on his shirt. These clothes were so boring. Even if Lance was an office drudge, he’d still wear better clothes. Brighter colors, cleaner cuts. Just wearing the dull browns and greens depressed him.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jerry asked, as they waited for a light bulb to be changed.

Lance stood patiently in the fake mailroom while the makeup lady blotted him. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? You look like someone just ran over your dog. Don’t tell me 'nothing'.”

Lance stared at him for a long moment. “It’s a long story.”

“It always is.” Jerry smiled at him. He was nothing at all like Lance’s grandfather but the smile gave Lance that same feeling he got when he’d visited Grampy.

“Do you want to get some lunch?” Lance asked abruptly as they waited for the light to be reset.

“What, this slop here?”

“No, I mean. I know this great café. I’ll tell you the story.”

“Sounds good, kid. Now, you get this scene in the next take and I’ll even buy.”

**

The easiest way to explain his funk, Lance found, was honestly. “I’m in love with someone who’s having a baby with someone else.”

Jerry’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Wow. That is a predicament.”

“Yeah.” Lance ate another mouthful of soup.

“I gotta tell you, it’s getting harder and harder to figure you guys out. In my day, you just knew, but you. I mean, I thought I had you pegged as a fruit, but I guess I was wrong.”

Lance cringed at the bluntness. He didn’t like the language, but it didn’t bother him as much as it used to. Probably because there was no malice in Jerry’s tone, just the hint of sarcasm that he’d built his career on and the general dialect of someone, well. Someone old.

“Actually, I am. I mean, I’m gay. I’m in love with a guy.”

“A guy who’s having a baby?”

Lance laughed. “A guy whose ex-girlfriend is having a baby.”

Jerry pressed a hand to his head. “You kids, you’re making my head spin. So you and this guy-- you’re together?”

Lance nodded.

“OK. So, you and your boyfriend are in love. But his ex-girlfriend’s having a baby. It’s not exactly Norman Rockwell, but what’s the problem here?”

Lance sighed. “He’s gonna go back to her once the baby’s born.”

“He told you that?” Jerry finished his soup and started eating the bread bowl. “And this stuff is great, by the way. I should fire you for not taking me here earlier.”

“You can’t fire me, I’m the producer. I can fire you.” Lance offered Jerry one of his cookies, which he took with a grin.

“Yeah, but you won’t, because no one else would be able to play the mail guy like me. So, anyway, your boyfriend. He told you he’s gonna break up with you?”

“No, no. I just. I know him, you know?” Lance ran a hand through his hair. “I know how he thinks, and he’s not gonna be able to resist the whole family thing.”

Jerry looked at him quizzically. “You know, huh? You don’t know shit.”

Startled, Lance dropped his spoon. “Excuse me?” It’s not like he’s not used to living with an entire crew that cussed like sailors, but most of them didn’t remind him of his grandfather.

“You kids think you’re so smart. Why would he still be with you if he was gonna go back to her, huh? If he’s that much of a family man, why wouldn’t he be with her through a pregnancy, why wait until the baby comes? It makes no sense.”

Lance was hearing that a lot lately, and was getting damned sick of defending himself. “You don’t know him, it’s complicated.”

“No shit it’s complicated, it’s a freaking gay love triangle. They’d probably make a TV movie out of you, for chrissakes. But seriously, you think this means that you and this boy can’t be together? Then maybe you should be looking at your own commitment issues. It sounds like you’re the one trying to get out of things.”

He couldn’t be more wrong, Lance thought. He didn’t want to lose Joey, didn’t want to ever be without Joey by his side, in bed and in life. He’d spent so much time, though, accepting that he would be relegated to only friendship, that he hadn’t allowed himself to dream about any other possibility in a long time.

They were both finished with their meals, and the driver was standing impatiently at the door, looking at his watch every thirty seconds, so the conversation ground to a halt without any real conclusion. But Jerry’s harsh words stuck with Lance through the next few days, but whenever he talked to Joey, he was reminded of that impending due date. It was just always there, haunting every word they spoke.

**

Lance flew down to Orlando for a few days. More recording. There was no one to meet him at the airport, so he got into the empty car Jive had sent and pouted all the way to the studio.

JC was being a perfectionist about his stuff, so it took most of the afternoon just to get the chorus of Selfish laid down. It was just the two of them. Everyone else had finished the track. Sometimes it was nice to have the producer’s undivided attention. More often, Lance wanted to throw JC and his neurosis out the window.

When it was finally done, they drove out to Winter Park together. JC had a house, finally, but there wasn’t much in it. They ordered take out and ate on JC’s fancy china. After, they stood side by side at the double sink washing up. Only JC would buy a top of the line dishwasher and plates you couldn’t put in it.

“Do you know what I was thinking about the other day?” JC asked.

“What?” With JC, that kind of open statement could lead to anything from dancing aardvarks to rainforest decimation to the merits of baking soda toothpaste. Lance glance over with trepidation as to where JC was going.

“That day, after you and Joey first hooked up. He came to me all worried, did you know that?”

Lance looked back at his hands as they wrung a dishtowel. “No.”

“He was kinda freaked, well, first about the whole guy thing, but more because it was you. He said this was either gonna be the best or worst thing he’d ever done.”

Lance didn’t say anything, just kept drying the dishes.

“He needs you,” JC said. “Don’t pull away form him now. He needs you to be there for him.”

“I’m not pulling away,” Lance retorted defensively.

“He thinks you are. He thinks you’re gonna leave him.”

Well, that was ripe, Lance thought. He was almost angry with Joey for turning this around on him. No one ever expected that Joey would be the one to leave. Lance would look at all of their surprised faces later and remember to think, I told you so.

“I love Joey,” was all he said.

“I know, baby.” JC squeezed his shoulder with a wet hand. “Just. Bear with him. Be there for him.”

Lance wanted to ask who was gonna be there for him, but he kept his mouth shut.

**

When he left JC’s, he drove over to Joey’s, but the house was dark. Joey didn’t answer his phone, either. Lance took a chance and swung by the Fatone’s, but no one was home there, either.

He parked the car a few blocks away, outside a two-story colonial with Joey’s car in the drive, next to the cute little Toyota that Kelly drove. Lance leaned his head against the steering wheel and didn’t cry.

**

Eventually, he had to move, before Joey came out and saw Lance stalking him. Lance didn’t want to fight. He simply couldn’t waste his limited time having Joey mad at him. He drove home and crawled straight into bed.

Lance woke up with an arm curved around his middle, holding him tight. Joey must have come in last night while Lance was sleeping. Lance took a moment to inhale deeply, filling his chest with the smell of Joey. God, he loved this man. If things could just stay like this- if he could just wake up in Joey’s arms every morning for the rest of his life, Lance would ask for nothing else as long as he lived.

He stayed there, listening to Joey breath for hours, it seemed. Behind the shades, he could see the sun rise. He needed to go to the studio to meet Justin, needed to call Wade, needed to pee.

He hugged Joey’s arms tighter and closed his eyes.

**

Lance beat Justin to the studio by minutes, but enough time so Justin could think he’d been waiting around forever. It was one of the most useful tricks he’d ever learned. When Justin did stroll in, iced coffee in one hand, car keys in the other, Lance smiled. He was just getting used to this new Justin, all rippling muscles and shaved head. With his low-riding cargo shorts, wallet chain, and black shirt, Lance could almost hear the opening drum kicks and chords of Bad to the Bone as Justin strode down the hallway.

Recording was good, and Justin didn’t say much. After, he followed Lance over to Johnny’s to meet with Wade for choreography.

“Is the floor humping really necessary here?” Lance asked. Watching the routine for Pop, it was bordering on a strip tease. Oh, wait-- it was a strip tease. He smirked at Wade, stretched out on the floor.

“It worked for Digital Getdown. People really liked it.” Lance had the urge to step on him.

“Just try it,” Justin begged, eager to keep the peace. Lance signed, and dropped to a push up, muscles screaming. All work and no dance left Lance out of shape.

“Where’s Joey today?” Wade asked at water break.

“Lamaze class.” They’d had breakfast together at IHOP before driving off in separate cars.

“Isn’t that weird, like, you dating him and him having a baby with someone else?”

Lance’s glare could have set an entire forest on fire. Justin caught it and intervened. “Hey, let’s run this a few more times and break for lunch.”

Lance threw his empty Dasani bottle at the wall and resumed his position at the mirror. Fucking Wade.

Joey brought a late lunch by the Compound, tacos and sodas from the Bell down the street. They lived dangerously and broke Johnny’s strict “no food in the studio” policy.

Sensing Lance’s growing frustration with Wade, Justin dragged the choreographer out for some post-production emergency listening session. Sometimes Lance really loved Justin for his perceptiveness.

Joey tore a packet of hot sauce with his teeth and poured the whole thing onto the end of his seven layer. Lance grimaced.

“I don’t know how you can do that,” he said. Joey took a big bite and grinned. He picked up another little packet, shook it, and poured it onto the next bite. Lance’s mouth watered at the thought. He ate his chalupa daintily, wiping his mouth to get all of the sour cream smears after each bite. They ate quietly, knees bumping under the coffee table.

“How’s dancing?” Joey asked.

Lance grunted. Fucking choreography. He knew their fans- they could get up there and eat cereal, and still sell out entire stadiums. There was no need for all this fucking choreography.

“That good, huh?”

“I’m thinking of having INS look into the legalities of Wade’s visa.” Lance folded up the wrapper from his first chalupa and set it aside. He pulled an enchilada from the bag and unwrapped it carefully to prevent spillage.

“Want me to hang out and run stuff with you for the rest of the afternoon?”

Lance could’ve kissed him. Actually, he thought, since there was no one around, he did. “That’d be really great. Justin’s probably gonna explode if he has to play peacemaker for much longer.”

“No sweat. Cause I could probably use the extra rehearsal too, right?”

Lance doubted it, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he ate the Choco-Taco Joey tossed him for dessert and licked the little bits of chocolate off of Joey’s lips when he was done. By the time Wade and Justin got back, Lance’s spirits were definitely lifted. He had to adjust his pants a bit, waiting for his erection to go down before dancing, but Joey smiled at him and winked as they took their places. It was a good day.

**

Lance flew back to Toronto the next day. Joey had cooked him an omelet for breakfast, then made love to him in the kitchen while soft Motown songs played and dishes to be washed in the sink.

On the plane, the flight attendant flirted with Lance for two hours before flat out offering to blow him in the restroom. Lance thought about a time when he would have accepted, then thought about how he may be back to those soon- random hookups that could relieve the physical ache but not the one in his heart. It would be a while, Lance knew, before he could stomach the idea of anyone but Joey touching him that way. If ever.

His parents flew up for Easter a few days later, and he took time to show them all around the studio, making them sit down at Eric’s computer and watch some of the dailies. They stood off camera while he shot a few of the conference room scenes. His dad was beaming so proudly; Lance’s stomach did little flip flops, like when he used to spot them in the audience during Attaché performances. Lance loved them for it.

They went to services on Easter Sunday at a generic Protestant church, since there were no Southern Baptists in Toronto. The songs were the same, though, and Lance sang the Alleluias softly, trying to blend into the crowd. A few of the younger members of the congregation glanced his way with a smile, but none said a word as Lance urged his parents out of the pew before the final hymn had ended.

After, his parents took him to dinner, and insisted on paying. It made him feel like a normal 22-year old, which was a rarity these days. Lance generally felt a lot older, what with the bank accounts and contracts and multiple careers he constantly juggled. It was, he thought, nice to be treated sometimes, rather than always picking up the bill.

“How’s Joey?” his mom asked. “We haven’t seen that boy in months.”

“He’s good,” Lance said. He studied his salad intently. He stacked the tomatoes on his bread plate. Yuck.

“It’s gonna be so nice, having a baby in the family.” His mom was grinning like a proud grandma already.

“Not in the family,” Lance corrected. There was a definite line there.

“Oh, close enough.” His mom squeezed his hand. Lance thought about horseshoes, where close actually counted for something. There was a distinct difference here, one that was waiting to be revealed.

There were only thirty days left, now. Four more weeks of Joey, and then the dynamic between them would never be the same. He watched the optimism on his mom’s face and tried to feel the same. JC’s words about pulling away echoed in his head, and he vowed to make the last month count.

**

Joey called him on his cell one day, catching him on a break from shooting while they were setting lights, microphones, or something. Lance didn’t know, but he’d been sent out to his dressing room at the back of the studio to wait, so he went. After five minutes, he ran down to The Soup Kitchen and ordered lunch to go. He was eating it when his cell rang. The phone had almost vibrated off the counter by the time Lance grabbed it.

“Hey, Lance, oh, my God, you’re never gonna believe this.”

Lance’s lips curved in a smile at the exuberance in Joey’s voice. “What’s going on?”

“We had our last class this morning, you know, the Lamaze thing? And they showed this video of a birth, and it’s just, like. I think I’m gonna puke man, seriously, it’s like the grossest thing ever. It’s like the X-files, it’s the weirdest thing ever, cause it’s like. They SHOW it, you know? Like, the camera’s down there, and. That’s gonna be Kelly, it’s so weird.”

Lance shuddered. “Eew.”

“That’s what I’m saying, man.” Lance imagine the faces that Joey must have been making and had to laugh. Joey made little wounded noises at him. “Don’t laugh, seriously.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Lance bit his lip to keep from giggling. “So, this was, like, last class? Did you have a graduation or anything?”

“Nah, we just got this little certificate. I let Kelly keep it.” Lance thought it would be a baby book someday, along with a picture of Joey and a pregnant Kelly.

“That’s cool.” Lance leaned back against the pillows of the sofa. His meal was getting cold, but there was a microwave around somewhere. “What’re you doing the rest of the day?”

“Dude, we’re coming up there!” Joey exclaimed. “For the end of shooting and everything, the four of us are flying up tonight.”

Lance bolted upright. “Yeah? Seriously?”

“Yeah, man. I miss being with you and stuff. It’s stupid for me to just sit down here now. And the guys wanna come up and see everything, so.”

Lance’s day had taken a decided turn for the better. “So, what time will you get here?”

“Probably like nine. Will you be done by then?”

“Yeah.” Lance would make sure of it.

“Cool. Cause I can’t wait to sleep in that bed, again. And, you know, I want you with me.”

The words probably had a lot of extra meanings in Lance’s head, but he couldn’t help but smiling to himself. He probably looked like a moron, but he didn’t care. He wanted to jump up and down yelling that his boyfriend was coming, but he managed a rather calm “Yeah, me too.”

His boyfriend was coming, his friends were coming, and the movie was two-thirds done. Twenty-five days, but he wasn’t thinking about that today, not at all. There were better things, now.

**

“I get the room with the view!”

Lance fell back against the wall as JC charged up the stairs in front of him two at a time, Chris hot on his heels. Chris dove for the ankles, just missing JC’s pant leg as he rounded the corner at the top of the stairs, falling to his belly and sliding back down to the landing. He rolled over, let out a groan of pain, and lifted his hands. Lance helped him up.

“That’s not fair, he got that room last time!” Chris began to climb again, though more slowly this time. Lance followed, hands in his pockets.

“Chris, you guys weren’t here at the same time last time.”

“Does that make any difference?” Chris asked. He tossed his bag in the room at the top of the stairs. “Now I’m gonna have to listen to Justin get up and pee every hour all night long!”

“Hey!” Justin cried, leaping up the stairs behind Lance. “Take it back!”

“Make me,” Chris taunted, jumping back into the room. He slammed the door in Justin’s face.

“I can break this down, you know! I’m a lot bigger than you!” Justin rammed his shoulder into the door. It budged a little, but Chris must have had all of his weight against it on the other side.

Lance sighed. “If you break that, you’re paying me back the two grand security deposit we had to put down on this place.”

Dejected, Justin stepped away. “You’re no fun.”

“Yes, I am a total drag because I don’t want to lose a ton of money and possibly break your shoulder just so you can tackle Chris and once again declare yourself the wrestling king of *NSync.”

Justin rolled his eyes. “Well when you say it that way, it just sounds stupid.” He took a few steps down the hall and twisted his head side to side, cracking his neck. “Come on, I wanna go feed the ducks.”

“Sure, Justin. And if you’re good, we can go out for an ice cream later.” Lance grinned. It was good to be surrounded by his people again. Joey came through the front door at the bottom of the stairs and glanced up, grinning. He took off his coat and tossed it casually on a chair. Lance stared down at his blonde tipped head and licked his lips. The week and a half apart had been forever.

Justin was busy flipping him off. “Hang on one sec,” he said as Lance started down the stairs. Lance looked over his shoulder to see Justin jump back to the top, charging into Chris’s room. He heard a loud “thud” and a howl a moment later. Chuckling, he jogged down the rest of the steps to where Joey waited below.

“They’re lunatics,” Lance said. “I hope you had a good flight.”

“Mmmm,” Joey said. He leaned down to kiss Lance, tilting his head so his tongue could lick inside of Lance’s lips. Lance thought about the girls in high school who’d been in love with the Italian exchange student and thought, damn, they really are the best lovers. He kissed Joey back, anchoring a hand at the back of Joey’s head. Joey held him close at the waist.

“Awww, wookit da wittle wuvebirds,” Chris called down the stairs. Lance turned, blushing slightly to see his three friends leaning on the second floor balcony railing. Joey buried his head down in Lance’s neck, where he could feel the smile against his throat.

“Go to bed,” Lance called up. “We’re gonna be… busy tonight.” Joey raised a hand in a wave that quickly turned one-fingered when Justin started making kissy sounds. Lance heard them walking away, back down the halls to their bedrooms.

“Remind me again why we need them,” Lance asked breathlessly, muscles turning to jelly as Joey licked and sucked at the pulse points on his neck.

“Because they do all the work and we get all the money,” Joey murmured, and Lance laughed.

“OK. But we’re locking the door tonight,” he said, taking Joey’s chin in his fingers and raising it back to his face. He stared for a moment at the expression there, trying to read it.

“What?”

“What?”

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” Joey asked.

“Just wondering what you’re thinking.” Lance cocked his head to the side, continuing to study Joey. He could usually read him so well, but this was a new look.

“I’m thinking, I love you?” His voice pitched up at the end of the line, questioning.

“You’re not sure?” Lance asked, humorously.

“I love you,” Joey answered much more vigorously. “And I’d show you except we’re still standing in the hallway of a house with five other people in it at the moment.”

Lance laughed. “Right. Why is that again?”

“Because you’re staring at me.” Joey kissed him again quickly then took two steps toward the stairs. “Coming?”

Of course he was.

**

They all came down to the set the next day, creating even more chaos. It’s like when Chris was around, commotion grew exponentially. If they’d lost the lawsuit, Lance had planned to get rich again by selling Chris to science, at least for a few studies. He was sure MIT would love to get their hands on whatever molecular structure existed in Chris that provided perpetual energy.

Having Joey around just put Lance in a better mood, and he even tolerated it when Justin and Chris swung into their gay hairdresser routine. It was something this did backstage at concerts when there were TV people around, a joke that would never get aired. Lance would make sure it ended up on the DVD. He waved a camera guy over, and Chris and Justin just ate it up.

“Where’s JC at?” Joey asked, sneezing as Chris sprinkled some more powder onto his nose.

“JC, oh, he’s so sexy with his new long hair. I just want to run my fingers through those pretty locks.” Justin tipped his cowboy hat back and swooned.

“Would you cut it out?” Joey asked, clearly annoyed. Justin sobered up. “Seriously, where is he?”

“Last I saw, he was over there with Emmanuelle.” Lance pointed to the corner by the loading dock door. They’d been talking and laughing a half hour earlier.

Chris whistled. “C’s getting some,” he sing-songed, jumping into the official *NSync “Getting Laid” dance, trademark Joey Fatone circa 1996. Lance wondered if other people had friends as weird as Chris.

Joey rested an arm across Lance’s shoulders, holding him close by his side. “We’re all done, right?”

Lance nodded. The bare bulbs around the makeup mirror were hurting his eyes so he turned toward Joey, a much more pleasant sight to focus on. “Yup. Home?”

Joey smiled. “Home. But we have to make a stop first.”

**

“Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?”

Justin whacked Chris in the back of the head. “Shut up.”

“Ow! That hurt, fucker. I’m gonna sue you for everything you’re worth! I’m gonna get Johnny Cochran and you’re going down!”

“Fine, then I’m gonna sue you for giving me all that porn when I was 14. Corruption of a minor. Ken Starr’s gonna be representing. Fucker got the President, he can send your ass upriver.”

In the front seat, Lance glanced at Joey and rolled his eyes. “Do you think you can delay the lawsuits until after the tour? I’d hate to have learned all of that choreography for nothing.”

“Well,” Chris said, “I guess we could do that.”

“It would be a shame for Lance to have wasted the three hundred hours it took him to learn Pop.” Justin’s voice was smug from the seat behind Lance.

“Leave him alone,” Joey said, taking a hand off of the wheel to squeeze Lance’s knee. “He’s doing a hell of a lot more than you right now.”

“Hey!” Justin cried. “I wrote half the fucking album.”

“Like we’d ever forget that,” Lance said. Joey turned the car into the parking lot for The Soup Kitchen.

Chris stared up through the window, reading the sign. “Did we just get poor again?”

“It’s a restaurant, stupid. They have the best food. This is, like, me and Lance’s secret place.”

Justin looked like he was gonna say something, but a sharp look from Chris kept his mouth shut. Joey was already licking his lips, pulling the heavy glass door open.

It looked different at night, all warm yellow glow from the hanging lamps and empty display windows. Lance didn’t even recognize the lady behind the counter.

“Read me that?” Joey asked, squinting at the menu, and it was just like the beginning again. Lance read down the list, laughing when Joey scrunched up his nose at the broccoli and cheese. Joey hated broccoli.

Justin’s cell phone rang, and it was JC. They all hooted at him through the tiny microphone, and Justin told him to “get the fuck down here and eat soup,” which sounded weird, but Emmanuelle was apparently still there and had been with Joey and Lance for lunch enough to interpret. They showed up twenty minutes later with Beth and Wendy, and it was a party.

Joey kept his arm around the back of Lance’s chair after they finished eating. The night manager came over and shook hands with everyone, locking the front door at eleven and letting them stay as long as they wanted. He even brought out a tray of desserts, claiming they would be thrown away anyway. Justin ate four Rice Krispie treats, because “fucking nobody makes these anymore, dude, I gotta call my mom and tell her to make me some of these.”

JC kept poking Emmanuelle in her side, making her giggle and Lance sighed at what an adorable couple they made. He had no idea where things stood with JC and Bobbie at the moment, but he didn’t say anything. JC was a big boy, and he looked really happy for the first time since the album had been started. Lance leaned a little into Joey’s shoulder, pulling a piece of brownie off of Joey’s plate and feeding it to his boyfriend. Joey nipped at his fingers and Lance smiled.

They went back to the house in two cars, Chris insisting that the couples ride in one and the single folks in another, so JC and Emmanuelle were making out in the back of the car while Joey navigated along the lake to the driveway of their rental house. They’d all worn themselves out laughing and talking at the restaurant, so it was a quiet procession into the house, splitting in different directions as everyone headed to bed.

JC grabbed Lance’s arm just outside the door, waving Joey in after him. “Hey man,” he said. “I just wanted to say, you know, I’m sorry for laying into you the other time. It wasn’t cool, dude. You got a lot going on and everything.”

Lance hugged him. “It’s cool, C. Forget about it.”

“Seriously, though. Whatever’s been going on, you guys are like, happier than I’ve seen you in a while.”

Lance beamed a little, inside and out. “Thanks. Things are good.”

“Good. You guys are good, man, it’s good.” He punched Lance lightly in the shoulder and stepped, one foot over the threshold.

“Hey, JC?” Lance asked quietly. He eyed his shoes. One of the laces was undone and hanging down on the wooden step.

“Mmmm?”

“Do you think Joey ever, might, like, change his mind? About Kelly and the baby?” Lance hated, hated, that he was doubting his own intuition on the whole thing but at the same time, the doubt was giving him hope, and hope was something that had been noticeable absent over the past few months.

JC stepped back outside, letting the screen door close. “Like, leaving them?”

Lance blanched at the thought of Joey leaving his daughter or not supporting her. It was so unJoey-like, it was barely imaginable. “No, I mean. Like, marry her, move in. You know.”

JC made a face at him. “No.” He shook his head, hair flying. “No.”

“No, like, don’t you think that he would want to be a good father, you know, like his dad? Mr. Family Man?”

JC touched Lance’s shoulder lightly. “That’s not going to happen,” he said very firmly, and for some reason, hearing the words from JC’s mouth, Lance was inclined to believe them.

Emmanuelle stuck her head out of the door just then, interrupting. “Are you coming in?” she asked.

JC looked at Lance. “You OK?” he asked. When Lance nodded, he followed Emmanuelle inside. Lance took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself before going in too, flipping off the porch light and locking the door before taking the steps to the bedroom one at a time. Joey was waiting.

Upstairs, Joey was already undressed, sitting on the bed in just a pair of red plaid boxer shorts. He was coloring his nails with a black Sharpie.

“What’re you doing?” Lance asked, stripping off his clothes and climbing up next to Joey in just his underwear.

“This works just as good as the other stuff and doesn’t smell as bad.” He held out his hand for Lance’s inspection. Lance twisted and turned it in the light. It did look good. His cock jumped a little in his shorts. He really loved the black fingernails. Joey would start filming again when the production moved to Chicago next week.

“Hey, can we talk about something?” Joey asked. He curled one leg underneath him, sitting up straight. Lance’s stomach fluttered nervously. He waited for Joey to continue.

“OK.” Joey ran a hand through his hair, obviously unnerved. “I’ve got, like. I talked to Kelly about some stuff over the weekend. She was in one of those rare good moods.” Kelly had suffered the worst pregnancy in the world, constantly moaning about her weight, her cravings, and her aches. Lance probably should have been more sympathetic, but he hated every time Joey ran to her side. Having her in a good mood was indeed a rarity.

“Anyway, we talked about some stuff yesterday, and you know, she understands about us and everything. I mean, she says she does.” Joey was playing with the bedspread, twisting it into tight ropes with his hands. Lance laid his own palms over Joey’s clenched fists.

“What’s going on?” he asked, taking a deep breath. If this was to be it, it was coming too damn soon. Nothing was sticking to the damned schedule, and Joey looked way too anxious for it to be anything but the big goodbye.

“We talked about names,” Joey said, abruptly changing the subject. “I still like Bailey, but she’s thinking Bridget or Brianne. Definitely something Irish, something with a B.”

“Joey.” One word, deep with meaning. Quit stalling, get to it, before Lance’s heart pounded out of his chest.

“I want you to be there,” he said. “I know this isn’t your kid at all, but it feels like it, it feels like she’s ours because as long as there’s been a you and a me, there’s been a baby on the way, and somehow, I always think of her as being ours instead of mine and Kelly’s. I want you there, and legally, you can’t be, because we can’t do that, it’s too public, and we haven’t even talked that long term yet, but I did ask Kelly about you being the baby’s godparent and she said yes, so. Will you stand up for my daughter?”

Lance blinked. He stared at Joey for a long moment and then blinked again.

“You’re not breaking up with me?” he asked, deadpan.

Now it was Joey’s turn to stare. “No. What?”

“You want me to be her godfather?” Lance’s voice wavered a bit, but he didn’t care. His heart was bursting, not from stress but sheer joy as Joey nodded. Lance launched himself into Joey’s arms, throwing him back against the pile of pillows.

“Ow,” Joey complained. “Wait, my leg, here.” He shifted around until more comfortable, Lance wrapped around him like a python the entire time. “Now. What are you talking about, breaking up?”

“No, no, no. Forget I said anything at all.” Lance kissed him, deeply, body pressing Joey’s into the mattress. He didn’t stop until his brain went fuzzy from oxygen depravation. Something just clicked, a light bulb going off. Joey wanted him to be there. Joey wasn’t pushing him away. Lance felt like a royal idiot, a blind man who could suddenly see clearly and the world wasn’t what he’d expected at all.

Joey gazed up at him, brown eyes full of love. “Was that a yes?” he asked, voice teasing.

Lance leaned down and kissed him again.

**

Briahna Joelley Fatone was born right on time. Lance got the call in the early morning, Joey’s laughing voice coming through the phone crystal clear. They were both in tears when they hung up. Lance had a plane ticket waiting only five minutes later.

Beth came in and sat down at the foot of the bed. Wearing a tank top and flannel pajama bottoms, her hair was still mussed from sleep. She reminded Lance of his sister, when they would meet before school to tell the most important secrets.

“Is Joey a daddy?” she asked, wrapping her arms around her knees. Lance nodded slowly, rubbing a hand over his scruffy cheek.

“Yup. They named her Briahna. With an H, so people don’t call her Bri-anna. Six pounds, twelve ounces, dark hair, and blue eyes, but Joey said that usually changes.”

Beth nodded intelligently. “That’s what I’ve heard too.” She rubbed Lance’s leg through the comforter. “How you doing?”

“I’m OK, actually.” And he was. Excited, almost, and he couldn’t wait to get to Orlando to see the baby.

“I know you’ve been more freaked out about this than you’ve been letting on.”

Lance sighed. He really thought he’d been good at keeping it inside. “I had this crazy idea that Joey was gonna break up with me and, like, go back to Kelly after the baby was born.”

Beth studied him, seriously. He shifted under her gaze, uncomfortable. “You know that’s crazy, right?” she asked. “I mean, you know that Joey really loves you and the baby-- I won’t say it doesn’t change things, because it does. She does. But she doesn’t change the way he feels about you.”

Hearing it, even though he’d come to know it deep down, made Lance feel better. “I know. Now. I was just a little screwed up there. But a lot of people yelled at me a lot and told me I was stupid, and when you hear that, a lot, you start to believe them.”

Beth leaned forward and gave him a kiss. “Believe them. I think you guys are gonna have a long, happy life together.”

“Me too.” Lance smiled at her. “Help me pack?”

“Definitely,” she said, stepping off the bed and pulling him up, laughing. Day zero, but Lance realized that it wasn’t zero at all, but one. Day one of his new life.

**

They came back to the Toronto house while doing promo in September. Joey had on one of those stupid baby slings that Lance always teased him about, but Joey had read in one of his books that being close to a parent’s heartbeat was good for the baby, so Briahna rode in her carrier snug against Joey’s chest nearly everywhere they went.

So much had happened over the past few months. They’d driven up to Canada for the interviews, still too shaky to fly. Joey hadn’t let his baby out of his sight in over two weeks. They’d even moved the crib back into the bedroom.

The house was closed up tight, not being rented now so the landlord had agreed to let them have it for the weekend. It was strange to be back inside and see the counters bare, the piles of clothes absent from the laundry room.

The baby cried softly, and Lance lifted her from the sling, popping the pacifier back between her waiting lips. He was rewarded with a gurgle and a smile. Her brown eyes- Joey’s eyes- glittered.

“This is where Daddy and Lance stayed making our movie,” Joey said. “That’s Lake Ontario.” He pointed out the window, then turned to Lance grinning. “We should show her the ducks.”

“Sure.” Lance lifted his lips when Joey bent to kiss him, then the baby. Joey carried their bags upstairs. He turned left instead of right at the top.

“Don’t you want to stay in our old room?” Lance asked, taking a step toward that door.

“That’s gonna be kind of hard,” Joey said, pushing the door open. The white carpet stretched before them, bedless.

“Our comfy bed!” Lance cried. “Well, that sucks.”

“Not exactly,” Joey said. “I kinda bought it. You know, when I called the guy about staying here, I asked, and he said he’d have it shipped down to my place in Orlando.”

Lance laughed. “You’re too much.”

Joey gathered the two of them in his arms. “So, are you ready for lunch?”

“The Soup Kitchen?” Lance asked. Between them, Briahna kicked her feet as if she too was excited about returning to their former haunts. Lance thought about how miserable he’d been for most of the time in Toronto, and the difference six months could make.

“Absolutely.” Joey kissed him and Lance kissed him back. It was a good day.

END


End file.
